


Don't Give In

by becsbunker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 13:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16893306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/becsbunker/pseuds/becsbunker
Summary: Summary: Amara’s connection with Dean becomes more apparent and he’s terrified of the impact it’ll have on your relationship with him if you find out.based on this request on my tumblr; can you write a dean x reader where the darkness is in his head and the reader notices it. Maybe from deans POV while they have sex (implied if you don’t do smut)  or anytime she tries to get close to him. And she notices he’s being weird and it cause a big fight?  @my-name-is-alice-ayers





	Don't Give In

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Dean x Reader  
> Warnings: smut, angst, injuries, blood, typical spn violence & gore, language, arguing, drinking, ANGST. did i mention that already?  
> A/N: About two lines of dialogue is taken from the spn episode ‘Love Hurts’.

 

  


[Originally posted by berezneva12](https://tmblr.co/ZC1bii21ZvJ0L)

* * *

* * *

 

No matter how hard he tried, Dean just couldn’t get Amara out of his head; out of his thoughts. This ‘connection’ he had with her scared the crap out of him. Where would it end?

He hadn’t even had the guts to tell you how profound the bound had become, he was terrified of the outcome. He couldn’t lose you.

You were the best thing that had happened to him, he loved you more than anything, yet this whole thing with the darkness was clouding everything, his mind, his feelings, his thoughts.

The pair of you were in bed, you on your back as he fucked you into the mattress, your nails dragging down the muscles of his back as he lost himself in the feel of your cunt clenching around him. Amara still plagued his thoughts even as you cried out his name in ecstasy, and it was killing him.

He felt like he was being unfaithful, like he was cheating you whenever he was with you. Dean wanted rid of this bond, before he broke your heart completely.

Dean’s hips stuttered as he chased his own release, a long grunt leaving him as he filled the condom, dropping his head to your shoulder to catch his breath.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, praying that those words would fix everything, fix him.

“I love you too, Dean,” you stroked his hair lovingly, happy to just have him in your arms.

He’d been acting so off lately, so lost in his own thoughts. You’d asked him what was up, but he just played it off as being tired from hunts. You weren’t convinced, but you didn’t press it any further.

Tonight was the first time in a few weeks you’d had sex, which for the two of you, was unusual. Dean thought maybe the intimacy would block out the darkness, unfortunately he was wrong.

The next morning Dean woke up to your side of the bed empty. He guessed you’d gone out for a run with Sam, although he wasn’t overly sure how you had the energy after your night together. Hell, even he was sore in all the best ways- physically at least.

Forcing himself out of bed, he padded bare foot through the bunker to the kitchen to make some much needed coffee and bacon for breakfast.

He was halfway through his second mug of coffee when his phone rang.

“Hey, babe,” he answered, both grateful and guilt ridden to hear your voice.

You proceeded to tell him about a case you and Sam had caught wind of, saying you’d swing by to pick him up on the way.

The job was a shit show to say the least.

Turns out the monster killing people was a qareen, who just happens to transform into the form of your deepest, darkest desire before it rips your heart from your chest.

Dean’s heart hammered against his ribs as the qareen went for him, wearing Amara’s face. If he wasn’t in a life or death situation, he was sure he’d punch himself for having that desire.

He was half grateful that you were upstairs with Sam, hopefully unharmed and near to finishing off the bitch who was controlling this monster.

Amara’s hand was clawing into Dean’s chest, the pain making him struggle for breath as he shouted in agony.

Just as he started seeing black spots, Amara, the qareen, disappeared into thin air, leaving him crumpled on the floor as he gasped for air, blood and marks through his t-shirt.

“Dean! Dean!” Sam and you called out in unison, guns out in hand just in case.

“Im good,” Dean coughed, slowly sitting himself up.

You rushed over to him followed by Sam, the pair of you helping him to his feet before you hugged him, being careful of his wound.

“You scared the crap out of me,” you scolded, earning a half smile from your boyfriend.

“Sorry sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, walking with you out of the store.

“No guesses to what your ‘darkest desire’ was?” You teased as you got into the back seat of the impala, Sam taking the driver’s as to not put added pressure onto Dean’s chest.

Dean tensed at your question, which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“I don’t think Sammy wants to hear about it,” he jested, earning a look of disgust from his brother.

“Nope. I’m good, thanks.”

You furrowed your brows slightly, making a mental note to bring it up with Dean once you were back at the bunker.

                                                      ~~~~

Dean was sat on his bed, shirt off as you cleaned and covered the angry marks across his chest.

“The qareen really did a job on you, hm?” You said, looking up at him from where you were kneeling between his legs as you finished patching him up.

He scoffed a laugh, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “You could say that.”

Dean raised his eyebrow as you stayed where you were, concerned etched over your face.

“Sweetheart, what’s up?”

“What aren’t you telling me?” You pressed, and Dean felt like his whole world was about to crumble around him. All his resolve, all his hiding from the truth was about to be out in the open.

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, you got to your feet.

“I’m talking about how off you’ve been with me,” you snapped, your frustration reaching breaking point. “You don’t talk to me like you used to, we hardly ever have sex, you acted really shady after the hunt today, and pretty much every other hunt. It’s like you’re hiding something from me. I thought we were past all that pretending crap?”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood up in front of you. “I’m just tired, Y/N/N.”

“Stop fucking lying to me,” you hissed, pointing a finger at him. “After everything we’ve been through, what could be so bad you feel you have to hide it from me?”

Dean clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he took a long breath.

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you pleaded, your voice calmer as you took his hand in yours.

“The- um, the connection with the Darkness, it’s getting stronger,” he stated, his eyes brimming with tears as he looked at you.

You stared at him, stunned. “What? What do you mean?”

Dean sighed, removing his hand from your hold so he could put his t-shirt back on his body.

“It’s like she constantly inside my mind. Amara is all I can think about, no matter how hard I try to block her out- she’s just there,” he paused, running a hand over his face. 

“The qareen was the image of her back at the store.”

His words felt like a crushing in your chest, you couldn’t even process any of it. First he’d kept the fact his connection with Amara was still very much there and constant, despite him telling both you and Sam that it’d gone. Now she’s actually his darkest desire?

You held a hand over your mouth as you stepped back, failing in holding back your tears.

“Y/N, please just listen,” Dean begged, going to hold you but you pushed him away.

“How could you- how could you keep that from me!” You yelled, both sadness and anger running through you at full force. “All this time you’ve been acting strange, avoiding me-” you shook your head, all sorts of heart wrenching thoughts filling your mind.

“Fuck. Have you actually  _been_ with her?”

Dean looked at you in disbelief, the hurt evident across his features. “No! How could you even think that!” He retorted, his tone matching yours.

You threw your hands up in the air. “Oh sorry, my boyfriend’s has some connection with the Darkness, who it turns out is also the one thing he desires most-”

“-it’s not fucking like that!”

“Woah, guys, what’s with all the shouting?” Sam walked into the room, brows furrowed in worry as he saw the state of the pair of you.

You sniffed, running a hand through your hair as you turned on your feet. “I’ll let your brother fill you in, I need a damn drink,” you stated, not looking back as you stormed out of the room.

                                                       ~~~~

Dean explained everything to Sam, who listened to everything he had to say. Sure, he was surprised, but he didn’t look like he wanted to start throwing punches, which Dean was more than grateful for. He couldn’t bare the thought of the judgement and hurt from both you and his brother.

“Standing here right now? Every bone in my body wants to run her through, send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I’m near her,” Dean shrugged, exhausted, “I don’t know, something happens. I can’t explain it. But to call it desire, love- it’s not that. It’s so far from that.”

Sam nodded, a look of empathy over his face. “Amara is God’s sister, Dean. And for some reason she’s chosen you, which sucks. But I’m not going to blame or judge you for it,” he began. “And honestly, I’m sure Y/N would feel the same if you told her everything.”

Dean bit his lip, shaking his head to himself. “Nah, I think that ship has sailed. She hates me.”

God, it killed him to say those words out loud. He wished he was able to kill Amara himself just to fix his relationship with you.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Sam sighed, holding a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “That woman loves you more than anything in this whole world. She’s stuck with us through everything. Everything, Dean. You two need each other and you know it. She knows it.”

“I don’t even know where she’s gone, man,” Dean muttered.

Sam pulled out his phone from his pocket, a small smile on his face. “I can track her car.”

You’d just got out of the shower, which had gone cold a good 20 minutes ago, but you weren’t even phased. You were too busy crying, your chest heaving as you sobbed under the spray of water, just wanting your pain to be washed away.

All you wanted to do was go to bed, too exhausted to do anything else. With a towel wrapped around you, you went to turn the doorknob of the bathroom when you heard a rattling noise from the front door of the motel room. Someone was picking the lock.

Cursing yourself for leaving your duffel bag on the bed, which contained your gun and knives, you improvised and quickly grabbed the can of deodorant spray from the sink. At least it would work as a valuable distraction if nothing else.

Dean managed to get into the room with little trouble. He had the ‘great’ security of motel rooms to thank for that.

Just as he closed the door behind him, he heard your voice call out, “back off, I’m armed!”

Both your eyes widened in surprise. Yours as you realised it was Dean, and his as his gaze turned on you in nothing but a towel and a- wait, a can of deodorant in your hands?

“You’re armed with spray deodorant?” he asked incredulously.

You dropped your stance, throwing the can on the bed. “I couldn’t get to my duffel, alright?” you huffed. “Jesus, what are you breaking in here for, anyway?”

He walked towards you, stopping a metre or so away, anxious about getting the same reaction from you he had earlier. “I had to see you. We need to talk.”

You stayed silent briefly contemplating your options before you replied, “alright, just let me get some clothes on.”

By the time you came out of the bathroom again, Dean was sat on the couch with the large bottle of whiskey you’d bought in his hands.

“The first time you tried this, you nearly threw up in the back of Bobby’s truck,” he smiled to himself at the memory.

You walked across the room and perched on the edge of the table in front of Dean. “I was 15, you ass,” you chuckled, snatching the bottle from his hands. “Besides, you’re the one who dared me to drink it.”

He nodded to himself, the smile slowly fading from his lips. “Yeah, one of my many mistakes.”

Twisting off the cap, you took a long swig from the bottle, relishing in the refreshing burn down your throat. 

“I don’t think that really compares,” you muttered, passing the bottle back to Dean who just put it on the table instead of drinking from it.

His pained gaze met yours for a moment, before you looked away.

“Why are you here?” you asked.

“Because I need to try and explain this whole fucked up situation between me and Amara, and I need you to hear me out.”

“Dean, don’t- I can’t-” you tried to protest, too tired and hurt to go over the story again.

“No, just listen,” he urged, he  _pleaded_. “The connection with her is solely because of the Mark, alright? She’s God’s freakin’ sister, and she’s powerful. I don’t know why she has any interest in me still, and I don’t need to know. I have no desire for her, I don’t love her, I don’t want her.”

He let out a breath before he spoke again, his voice breaking with emotion, “Y/N, I love you. I love you so damn much. I’ve loved you since we were kids, and I still regret waiting so long to tell you.”

He brushed away the stray tears falling down his cheeks, you trying to bite back your own tears to no avail as he continued, “I want to kill the Darkness. Hell, it’s all I want to do. But being near her, fuck, I don’t think I’d be strong enough. And I hate myself for it, I hate myself for breaking your heart, for whatever this thing with Amara is, for every damned nightmare you’ve been through from being with me. I- I guess I just want to say sorry, even if this is the end for us two.”

“I guess in reality, it is the end for us,” you spoke quietly, Dean’s heart sinking straight from his chest.

“But neither of us are that smart,” you moved to sit next to Dean, resting your hand on his leg.  “We’ve been through a tonne of shit over the years, I mean, we’ve died how many times between us? And prevented the world ending, also numerous times.”

Dean hummed in agreement. “You’re right, we’re not that smart.”

“I’m trying to be inspirational here,” you joked, earning a quiet chuckle from the Winchester.

“Anyway, my point is, I believe we can fight through this. You might think you’re not able to kill Amara because of this hold she has on you, but you’re a hell of a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, Dean,” you told him honestly.

He looked over at you with concern. “And what if I can’t? What if it comes to the world ending and I can’t end her?”

“Then I will.”

“Y/N,” he started, holding his hand over yours and giving it a tight squeeze. “To Amara you’re the only thing standing between her and me, it’s too da-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” you warned. “I’m going to kill her, whatever happens. She can’t end the world, and she sure as hell can’t have you.”

Dean’s tongue flicked out between his lips. He wanted to argue, to warn you it’d be the biggest risk for you to take her on, but he held it in. He had you here, close to him and with the willingness to stay together. He’d work out a way to keep you out of the battle ground when the time came, no matter how much you’d fight against it.

“Alright,” he nodded. “How about we finish off this whiskey and get some sleep?”

“I like that idea,” you agreed, resting your head against his shoulder while thinking of nothing more than ending Amara, whatever the cost.


End file.
